


A Little Loki Love Story

by 0ASHburg3rs0



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Matantei Loki Ragnarok | Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard (Marvel), Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avengers Tower, F/M, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Miðgarðr | Midgard, New York City, Protective Avengers, Protective Hulk (Marvel), Protective Loki (Marvel), Protective Tony Stark, Romance, SHIELD, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0ASHburg3rs0/pseuds/0ASHburg3rs0
Summary: Surviving the intergalactic attack in New York was difficult. Working as a psychologist alongside Dr. Laufeyson was impossible.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Fox in the Henhouse

**Author's Note:**

> A Loki that is not evil-  
> Simply out of touch with humanity.   
> Let's help him, shall we?

"You're late again, Dr. Laufeyson."

She didn't mean to admonish him. He was after all her employer and owner of the private practice. Still, Emma couldn't help but poke jest at the one imperfect trait of her arrogant, and _annoyingly_ attractive boss.

A cold "hum" was his response.

Dr. _Lon_ Laufeyson didn't turn in her direction nor spare a wrinkled brow. Completing his stride towards the mahogany wooden door beyond the hallway, he gracefully turned the golden knob, entered, and closed the door behind him. All the while, Emma continued making a cup of sweet cinnamon tea in the foyer of the brick church turned office. Lazily waiting for her first client of the day.

10-minutes past with no sign of her client. Suddenly, Dr. Laufeyson re-emerged from his office and walked down the hallway towards Emma. She could've sworn he smirked when their eyes briefly met.

" _Relax."_ she silently told herself.

Once he reached the electric kettle on the wooden chest in front of her, he scrunched his nose at the scent of Emma's strong cinnamon tea in a disapproving fashion. As was custom during the two months they had been working together. It was no wonder there hadn't been any other providers occupying the office. He then meticulously set work on his own mint tea. Deeply steeped with no sugar.

At one point, his elbow accidentally graced Emma's. A surprise given how precise and calculated he always was. Emma couldn't help but steal a glance at him after the stolen touch. He was dressed in another black suit adorned with small green and gold cufflinks, hair slicked back per usual. No words were uttered between them and Emma didn't try to speak again after he ignored her this morning. Once finished making his tea, the careless doctor promptly turned around and walked back to his office.

Emma let out a sigh.

Nothing was more annoying than the fact that she found this indifferent, distant, _jerk_ attractive to begin with.

Then again, wasn't that the point? Living in New York city so close to Avenger headquarters, Emma was used to seeing the best of people. Catching regular glimpses of those fearless defenders of Earth and knowing the impact they had on the Bronx. Even regulars at Katz Deli took to "defending the peace". Sometimes it looked like the bagged lunch fund for those less fortunate in the burrows. Other times, it was the simple act of kindness to a taxi (well, uber) driver. Strangers had even started speaking on the subway; no, not the typical death threat. Conversation. On her way to work, Emma heard a string of stories:

"Nah, man. Listen, come down to my auntie's house this sunday. She'll show you what good oxtail stew is…"

"THIS IS MY MASK AND I-I LOVE CAPTAIN AMERICAAA. WANNA SEE MY THOR HAMMER."

"That's an interesting way to look at it. I thought the shares in Apple were substantially-"

Amazing how an intergalactic disaster can bring the best out of the once crowned worse in America. Of course, the attack from the celestial creatures came at a terrible cost. New York re-built its structures, but the trauma, grief, and loss left emotional scars. Emma tried to help people heal those invisible wounds everyday.

"Dr. Veritas! I'm so sorry I'm late. The buses were down today. Some leftover goo from that wacky space invasion left a crater on 34th you'd never believe!"

Emma was snapped out of her thoughts at the arrival of her 9:00 am, who like her boss, was also 15 minutes late.

"Good Morning Mrs. Wan. No worries, we still have 40 minutes for the session. Why don't you come into my office? I'd love to hear about your experience with the assignment".

Mrs. Wan was dressed in a simple black dress, hemmed modestly at her ankles. Her black bob held evidence of age in-between grey speckles. A red scarf, a gift from her late husband looked to be frantically draped around her shoulders. Her wide-rimmed glasses seemed somewhat foggy. Evidence of her earlier rush to meet today's appointment on time.

Emma guided the elderly Mrs. Wan to her office at the beginning of the hallway before Dr. Laufeyson's. Although both doors were the same mahogany wood with gold trimmings, their interiors were vastly different. Inside her office, Emma had a soft white faux fur rug. There was a mustard sunken chair worn in from the tales of clients past. A teal wooden desk sat in front of the large stained glass window that cast a slight rose color to the room. The window was her favorite part. A remnant from the old church that the brick office used to be. A small lamp in the left corner added an additional glow of warmth that enveloped the modest 120 square foot space.

"I wrote a letter to William."

barely sunk into the chair before fumbling through her threadbare purse. After a few rushed breaths and some digging, she pulled out a tightly clutched paper.

"Mrs. Wan-"

"No, no, I'm ready to go straight into the letter. I put so much thought into it. My dear William-"

"Mrs. Wan, why don't we check your symptoms first-"

"Yes, yes of course, but William- He- he needs to know-"

"Mrs. Wan-"

Suddenly an enormous sob wrecked Mrs. Wan's frail body. Emma simply sat in silence, bearing witness to the woman's pain. Writing a letter to your dead husband could not have been an easy task. During her own therapy, Emma had to write a letter as well. Only that letter wished for the death of it's recipient…

After several minutes, Mrs. Wan's cries softened and she was now looking up from the note. A timid smile graced her lips.

"Fo-forgive me."

Her eyes met Emma's, though her hands gently traced the note.

"I couldn't bring myself to cry when I wrote to William. I needed to get everything out. I suppose…"

She paused and took a deep inhale of breath.

"I suppose that's what was left."

.

.

.

The rest of the session passed with empathy and processing what it was like to say goodbye to her husband. His death was sudden. Mr. Wan was cleaning the street with his co-workers when the sky split in two during the attack in Manhattan. A building had crushed him. Mrs. Wan was only notified after the fight. When Earth's mightiest heroes helped pull bodies from the wreckage.

Emma typically kept straightforward limits with session times, but Mrs. Wan had really been put through the ringer and they easily fell five minutes over the hour. By the session's end, Mrs. Wan sported a lightness. A feeling she said she "hadn't felt in a long time".

It warmed Emma and in the very pit of her gut, she felt the uncomfortable truth. A bit of jealousy stirred.

" _None of that"._ She thought, and the small ire was no match for the compassion that often ruled her.

As the day waned on, the faint pink of stained glass shifted to a deep blush. Earlier leniency with Mrs. Wan's session meant Emma had to push each of her sessions back 5 minutes. At the end of the day she was spent and hadn't finished half her notes. As she gathered her things to head out, resolved that she would have to stay late tomorrow, there was a commotion in the hallway.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T ACCEPT INSURANCE? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PAY THIS BILL?"

Emma opened her door a tiny bit so she could peek at the scene unfolding. She was very surprised to see a well dressed blonde woman, waving her Prada bag at none other than Dr. Laufeyson himself. To his credit, he kept his composure, stone face and all.

"Mam, you were made aware of this prior to our session. We can discuss payments in installments."

"I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY".

At this, Emma had to stifle a laugh. The woman's face was beat to perfection, her shoes were Louis Vuitton, and her Prada titled to the side exposing a large wad of cash. As if wanting all to know she did indeed have money. Perhaps it was just the thrill of this standoff she craved. Emma had to admit, the thought of yelling at Dr. Laufeyson was pretty nice.

"While the juxtaposition of your insufferable wailing in this humbly renovated building of worship serves irony of the highest level..."

Emma was shocked at what she was hearing. That was absolutely no way to speak to a client.

"I tire of your worthless need for attention."

Dr. Laufeyson's voice felt sinister, almost as if he was enjoying himself mocking this woman. The sound of footsteps came dangerously close to the door. His face was now in view. Swiftly, emerald eyes turned black.

"Run along. Leave the bag".

As if entranced, the woman gathered herself and started to head out of the hallway. In her place was the tacky purse.

" _Ok, unethical and now stealing. Am I supposed to do something about this?"_

As if on cue, long pale fingers pushed the office door further open. Emma was crouched down at the moment, looking up at the angular face of Dr. Laufeyson.

And wasn't this the point? The reason why she was enticed by him? In a world of heroes and Gods. Darkness seemed so easy to root out. Or maybe just to hide. Emma worked hard on masking hers everyday. But this man who claimed to actually want to help people, proudly wore his shadow like a badge of honor. What place did it have in the world?

Dr. Laufeyson hunched a bit so that he could grasp her chin. Not roughly, but possessive. He licked his lips as she stared up at him. Her eyes were a mix of excitement and fear. The look seemed to captivate him.

"And what, has this little dormouse possibly poked her head into?"

He tilted his head to the side, eyes turning a deep shade of black again. Emma's voice was caught in her throat. She froze.

"No matter, you ought soon forget."

"L-Lon?" Her voice returned, a hoarse croak.

He pressed his forehead against hers. Emma waited for whatever was supposed to happen to happen. Only, after several awkward minutes passed, Emma gathered her courage and decided enough was enough.

She stood up, pulling herself out of Lon's grasp and shook her head, leaving him bewildered.

"You know, I've put up with a lot of shit from you."

"Dr. Laufayson shook his head and craned his neck back. A scowl on his face.

"What in the Nords?"

"Even back at the cafe I knew there was something weird about you. Who talks like-"

She tried to continue telling him off about the clear violation of her personal space when a white light flashed in her head. It formed images of a battle. A long figure dressed in green, gold and black. The horned helmet. The army of creatures beckoned at his command. Her eyes flew open.

"Loki…"

She placed a hand to her head rubbing it..

"Loki…"

Anger began bubbling under her words.

"Loki, what the HELL are you doing?!" Emma shouted.

Stunned, he blinked twice, returning his emerald eyes, though this time they wore a foregin expression of disbelief.

The liar had been caught.


	2. Moving on Up!

Three months ago, it was a cold and rainy April day in Brooklyn. After taking an extended leave from the hospital to work on her own mental health, Emma resolved to pick up the phone and discuss returning with HR. Last week, she tried reaching Dr. Richards and a few other mainstays at the hospital. The only response was from a social work intern who unfortunately, was of very little help.

"Right, who are you?" Came an annoyed reply from the unknown clerk.

Emma was confused. The number re-directed her to a corporate contact that she had never even known existed before. She cleared her throat and tried to mask her annoyance with kindness.

"Sir, I'm a psychologist who took some leave after the attack to gather-"

"OH, so no one has told you. That makes sense. We have been swamped with benefits calls since the hospital has been shut down. Indefinitely. Tons of resignations. I'm surprised your supervisor hadn't told you."

Emma was in shock.

"Shut..shut down? I thought it was..relatively...ish..unscaved during the attack-"

"Oh sure, superficially, but apparently the ground shakes did a number on the bones. Not to mention a ton of folks lost their loved ones or died themselves. It was a skeleton crew until last month when the corporation decided it needed substantial renovations."

Each word dripped from the phone as if salacious gossip.

None of this made any sense. Dr. Richards had been in communication with Emma, albeit briefly, after the attack. He reassured her that she could take the 8 weeks to mourn and heal from her losses. A pang of guilt stirred in her chest. She had also celebrated a loss. Was this the price she paid for that?

"Are you still there?" The clerk asked.

"Oh, I'm-I'm so sorry. It's just a lot to take in. I'm here, what were you saying?" She managed to stammer.

"Just that it's a good thing you called! Your severance package is about to run out. In three weeks you'll get the lump sum you paid for benefits and the rest will go to your social security."

Ok. Now she was panicking. Emma only recently graduated and had hoped to start a long career working at the hospital. It had been less than a year that she was there. The severance package would definitely not cover basic expenses, let alone student loans.

_"Fuck."_

She murmured to herself before walking to the window in her tiny studio apartment and pressed her forehand against the glass. The cold felt good on her quickly warming skin. She needed to find a job fast. Who on _Earth_ would be hiring? Many of the buildings had been renovated since the attack, but she didn't imagine that people would actually have the funds to be hiring right now.

After the call, Emma did what any sensible millennial who just found out she was jobless would do.

.

.

.

"Hi Genie, 1 avocado toast on warm sourdough and…"

Her eyes scanned the little cafe's menu. They didn't have much, but living in one of the flats above made this space feel like an extension of home. Emma mainly came for the comfort, but stayed for the donated paperbacks and soft indie tunes.

"And a mocha...um...-frapa-um..."

Emma had never been a coffee drinking. She preferred herbal tea or childhood comforts like hot chocolate. Today was different. Today, Emma was a grown woman who could handle anything life threw her way. One who would definitely find a job and loved drinking highly caffeinated products.

"Actually, just give me the damn green tea."

"Shit, girl. That's new!" The curvy sweet barista, Genie, winked with a smile. Honestly, Genie had a very infectious smile and it was difficult for Emma to keep a straight face. She let out an airy laugh.

" I'm just full of surprises."

Emma was pretty predictable. If her order hadn't given it away, her life map surely would. Straight from highschool to college, then straight to grad school, psychologist at 27, and then...well, she thought life would start. The "not so worried about school and being someone" part as her best friends called it. The thought made her miss them.

"Well, have a seat and it'll be right over".

Emma nodded and made her way to the cozy nook by the bookcase. She pulled on her maroon hoodie sleeves and was back to ruminating thoughts. She believed she had an identity, but now she was jobless. All those years in school for nothing. And where Emma was not full of surprises, the world had been. The existence of super heroes and celestial warfare was all part of the new normal.

After placing down her bag on the small two seater iron table, she turned to face the bookcase.

"Let's see what will distract me today…"

Her tan fingers had been busy tracing the worn spines. Her hair was also a bit unruly, thanks to the humidity from the rain. Long brown curls blocked her sight from the side. It wasn't until he spoke that she noticed the tall raven haired man to her right.

"A distraction you say?"

Now, New York City is home to many handsome strangers. But there was something particularly alluring about this refined figure. Other worldly, even. The accented words sounded regal. A look of unmistakable mischief behind heavy green, no emerald, eyes. Emma hadn't been this taken aback by a man since…

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. Hand on his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully.

"Is it customary to stand agape when spoken to here?"

Half a question, half an insult. Clearly not from New York. Emma swallowed and scowled at the man.

"Well, that depends. Is it customary for you to hover over people?"

Ok, maybe he wasn't hovering. But Emma thought that if she sounded direct he wouldn't detect the very troublesome giddy feeling that bubbled in her chest.

The stranger quirked an eyebrow with interest.

"I'd hardly call it hovering." He stated that last word with a tinge of disgust.

"And in any case, if you want a distraction. I recommend this simple collection of essays."

His lithe hand reached for the beaten book on the shelf above Emma's head. Ironic, given that was the shelf she could never reach. He continued his musings.

"All things considered, Jung's work isn't entirely insufferable."

His eyes trailed Emma as he held out the book for her. Unsure what he was looking for, she paused before taking it, looking with brows still furrowed. Flipping through the dusty pages unveiled a collection of essays on the shadow self. This was odd. This whole exchange, as a matter of fact, was odd. What was even odder than the exchange itself was the dark haired stranger's sudden softness. Those eyes seemed doubtful. For all that earlier bravado, the unexpected expression didn't seem to match.

"Thank you." Emma mustered, sounding more as a question.

Seemingly pleased, the stranger smiled with thin lips. The vulnerability spotted earlier gracefully vanished. Emma found herself desperate for it to come back.

"It's not everyday that I meet someone familiar with Jungian works. What is it about the book that you like?"

That caught his interest.

"All beings have a shadow side." He stated matter of factly.

"I rather like mine."

That mischievous glint was back. Two steps forward closed the space between them. Emma had to crane her neck further up in order to meet his gaze.

"Tell me, what do you know of yours?"

This seemed too intimate of a conversation to be having with a stranger.

 _"Is he hitting on me?"_ She thought.

Luckily, years of experience helped with situations like this. Emma wouldn't bite the bait. Not to mention, this was now becoming an increasingly awkward encounter.

Taking a step back and leaning on the iron chair, she replied with a smile.

"Enough to know I rather indulge my inner child. You should really try one of the deserts here. Probably should get in line before it gets too crowded."

There was a vibrant energy between them. Shifting tides of attraction mixed with mutual annoyance. He took a look around.

"I sincerely doubt this establishment attracts that much attention."

"Well, I don't want to keep you from-"

And with that he scoffed.

"Oh, Nords. Like I would be too preoccupied with this droning conversation."

Emma laughed in astonishment. Such a quick shift from gentleman to child.

"Wow, I'm not the one that started speaking to a stranger. Have a nice day Mr.-"

"Dr." He corrected.

"Oh, this makes sense now. What are you, some stuck up psychiatrist?"

At that, he rubbed his chin again, one arm crossed his irritatingly broad chest.

"Why, yes. I suppose I am."

Oh sweet kismet. Of course this man was a psychiatrist and Emma was an out of work psychologist. It was a long shot, but he seemed to understand fundamentals. After all, the asshole recommended Jung. Expelling a light laugh, laced with charm she spoke.

"Well this does explain everything now! You see, I'm a psychologist. You know what they say."

She playfully nudged his elbow with hers. He didn't quite recoil, but was still agitated nonetheless.

"No. I don't know who they are or what it is they say."

She ignored him, circling the table to sit on one of the iron chairs, motioning for him to sit in the other.

"Anyway, I'm actually looking for opportunities to expand my work. It's so rare to find someone in the field by pure coincidence. You wouldn't be aware of any organizations in need of additional help. You know, with the attack and everything-"

And Emma could have sworn she saw those eyes glow. A newly formed, devious, smile adorned his lips.

"Actually, I'm in the market for my, uh, _practice_."

.

.

.

They spent the rest of that afternoon trying to enjoy each other's company. In between teas and sweets that Emma mainly ate, they struck a deal. Dr. Lon Laufeyson, was new to New York. Apparently he was engaging in a very specific study about humanity following that space invasion the Avenger's thwarted. Still, he needed to do more than just conduct the study for his flagship sponsors from overseas to continue funding his project. Enter Emma. A useful asset in billing for clinical hours and the rest was history.

"So Dr. Veritas, is it?"

"Yup." Emma took another bite of her pumpkin cinnamon roll. This one, Lon had paid for.

"Interesting, is that Roman?"

Emma wiped a stray crum.

"I guess? It's my middle name. My dad is Pakistani. Spent some wild nights in Europe. I use my middle name because there are enough "Dr. Ali's" in New York city. I wanted to be different."

"And your mother?" He seemed to ask more as a courtesy than actually caring. In fact, for someone who didn't look like they wanted to be there, Emma was surprised he stayed.

"Never really knew my mom, but baba was more than enough growing up."

She paused for a moment, feeling her eyes burn from quickly forming tears. Blinking them back, she re-shifted focus to Lon. He looked at her suspiciously, but didn't question.

"So, what about you? Any family in the city?"

Lon shrugged and gave another pressed smile.

"None I enjoy."

Emma thought it best not to ask anymore. Fidgeting with her phone, she was surprised to see how late it was.

"Well, I better get going. Will there be a formal interview?"

"I'll discuss with my sponsors..." He stated with disdain.

Emma could only assume they were not the _funnest_ group to work with.

He gracefully rose from the chair and hesitated for a moment, appraising something unseen by Emma. With a click of his tongue, the expression vanished.

"Otherwise, you pass. Congratulations you get to work for me."


	3. Of Gods and Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking this story will run 10 chapters. Might add 1-2 as needed so the story wraps up properly. Thanks for reading!

It shouldn’t be possible to deceive the God of Mischief. It certainly isn’t in good taste to even try. Yet here was Loki of Asgard, flabbergasted by this golden mortal’s deception. 

That's right, the silver tongued prince of tricks had finally been fooled. By a mere mortal no less! The insult was almost too much to bear. It would have been much more believable had it been a chaos demon. Hel, even a Jotun witch would wound less. He looked down at the shaken woman beneath him. She was a mess. Her long sleeved, ruffled blouse, a tacky multicolored print. Her seemingly coy black pencil skirt evidenced quite a large slit visible from her crouching position. 

_“Perhaps the first clue of deceit”._ Loki silently hummed to himself. 

Oddly enough, Loki couldn’t help trace his gaze up the opening, his lips pressing tightly at the sight of caramel flesh. To distract himself, he tightened his grasp on her chin and returned to studying her face. The repulsion in her large brown eyes stirred a strange feeling of guilt, which then spurred aggravation that he would allow himself to care about the opinion of a Midgardian wench.

_"This stupid mortal ."_ An anguished internal voice reminded him for the 100th time.

The only saving grace being that at least it was a shiny mortal. Her aura glowed even brighter now. That had to mean something, right? Ever since that damned day at the shitty cafe, he had felt some sort of Seiðr in her. At first, he dismissed it as an empathic energy. Surely even Earth had those. But how could a mere empath rival Loki's Seiðr?

Loki’s sorcery was the greatest the nine realms had ever seen. His tricks had worked in making all of Earth, save for those pests at Shield, forget his part in the attack. Well, blind them to it at least. To be honest, he much rather be remembered as the one who brought all of Midgard to its knees. He would have been a proper ruler, if not lavish. Better than that proud fool, Odin. Better than the idiot frost giants he was so ashamed of sharing heritage with. Loki was born to rule. It was his birthright! If not Asgard nor Jotunheim, Earth would suffice. Instead, here he lay rotting on the very planet he was meant to conquer. 

He wished they’d bring him to Asgard. Though he would suffer lifetime imprisonment from Odin, at least he would be near Frigga. A pang briefly striked through his chest. 

Alas, leave it to the royal douchebag to think of a punishment far worse than death.

“Brother, it pains me to see you like this.”

Loki was in the deepest cell of Stark tower, surrounded by surveillance with the ugly green monster outside his glass door. Thor, on the other hand, was directly in front of the cell.

“Really? Do you swear it?”

His grease laden tresses created a dark curtain in front of his face. He remained seated on the floor of the cell, one leg sprawled out. Hands in Asgardian cuffs to block any attempt of attack. Chaos personified. There were still traces of blood speckled on his face. Evidence of both his earlier crimes and the severe beating he took at the hands of a certain team of heroes. 

Thor pounded his large fist on the glass with frustration.

“Enough of this foolishness!”

Loki playfully clicked his tongue, tilting his head to one side like a cat.

“Careful. I’m sure your new friends wouldn’t want you breaking me out.”

Thor sighed, pulling away from the glass and running the hand previously resting by his side through his unruly mane.

“Loki, you are a good man.”

That drew a snark-filled chuckle.

“You are my brother!”

“Adopted.”

“For the sake of the mother who raised us-”

A seething flash of anger stronger than any of Thor’s lightning struck.

“DON’T YOU SPEAK OF HER!”

Loki bellowed fiercely, traces of spit flying out like poison. How he hoped it would burn Thor...or did he?

A few moments of silence passed between them. Thor looked solemn, but not defeated. They stared at each other for a while longer. Finally, Thor chose his response. 

“Brother, I’m here to tell you of your punishment for the crimes you committed against the good people of Earth”

At this, Loki had to laugh. 

“Good? You think these sniveling cretans are good, let alone capable of thinking for themselves?”

Thor opened the cell and stepped through. He knelt so that he was eye level with Loki, a look of compassion underneath his stern features.

“Just as I believe you are too.”

Loki continued to laugh, followed by a roll of the eyes.

“Oh, just get on with it. When will my execution be?”

“There won’t be one.”

“Ah, so when am I headed back to Asgard?”

“You aren’t.”

“Curious. Am I going to be confined to this glass box the rest of my life? You friend in the tin suit seems to think-”

Thor took a deep inhale of breath and quickly grabbed Loki’s cuffed wrists.

“Hey! What are you doing? Unhand me!”

He swiftly disabled the cuffs, barely offering a second for escape when in their place appeared brilliant gold cufflinks on both of Loki’s wrists. They seared his flesh slightly, emitting a small wince from the prisoner. The pain dissipated quickly though, and when he looked back at the spot, Loki found himself covered in black suit sleeves. 

He quickly stood up, nostrils flaring.

“WHAT. IS. THIS?”

Thor stood up again. His muscular form now towering over his little brother. It felt too familiar to Loki.

“Mother sends her regards. She enchanted these herself. They’ll detect when you use your Seiðr for good and enhance it. They will help you blend in and monitor you.” 

Loki tried to summon his power in that very moment to blast Thor back. 

.

.

.

Nothing. For Loki's sorcery was no match for anyone in the nine realms. Save for the mother who taught him it all. 

“What did you do to me?”

"When intended for pain or harm to the innocent, your Seið will be stifled.”

Loki was positively seething with rage.

“You’re joking…”

Thor placed a hand on his shoulder with a loud slap.

“Brother, there's so much good you could do in all the realms! Think of this as your rehabilitation. You will remain on Earth, using your powers of deception to help mankind. Tell them you’re a healer, a doctor, they call it. Heal them of the pain you inflicted, though they need not know it was you who caused their pain in the first place.”

“You HAVE to be joking…”

“Perhaps you will find a companion. A sidekick, like Banner.”

At this, the Hulk gruffed in anger. Clearly unhappy with the comparison. Though Loki hated to admit it, the sound made him nervous.

Thor then opened the cell once again and motioned for Loki to exit.

“If you can undo the wrong you’ve done, perhaps you can eventually join the Avengers. We are a spirited-”

This stopped the rebel prince in his tracks.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why would I willingly join your band of tight clothed, patriotic, shit stains?”

Thor turned and clasped one arm around Loki’s shoulder.

"By the Nords, it would be your rightful place! How could you ever think about ruling anyone without taking up arms to defend the very people you are meant to protect?"

"And if I should refuse?"

He then pulled Loki into a tighter embrace. To an outsider, it would appear loving. But Loki easily sensed the veiled warning.

“You haven’t a choice. It's either this, or be stripped of you powers. Be stripped of your immortality. Live the remainder of your mortal years on Earth. The Allfather's initial sentiments..."

It didn't shock Loki that Odin would be cruel enough to consider such a punishment. He kept his composure in Thor's embrace. Lying suited him after all. Still, there was pain. The irony of going unnoticed by Odin all these years, only for him to actually know what Loki's greatest _fears_ were. Not his joys. Those nights sipping honey suckle wine while strolling through the gardens were saved for Frigga. The lonely hours gazing at the stars, exploring portals unseen by Heimdall, and dozing off on the dew stained grass were saved for no one. Although Loki prided himself on his intricate manipulations, there was no clear way out of the Hel that awaited were he to refuse Thor's offer.

"I suppose I have you and Frigga to thank for this then."

Thor loosened his grasp and offered a well-meaning smile.

"We’ll be watching.”

.

.

.

Emma was supposed to make this torturous experience easier. If the Avengers saw him with a mortal who was helping people _for_ him, maybe they would leave him alone and fuck off long enough for him to break the enchantment on the cuffs. He just had to pretend he was helping others from time to time. A quick memory spell here and there wouldn’t _hurt_ them. A good way to deceive the cuffs Seiðr.

Until today. 

“Loki, what the hell are you doing?!” 

Stunned, he blinked twice, returning his emerald eyes, though this time they wore a foreign expression of disbelief.

“What?” He spat.

Emma stood up now, attempting to look him straight in the eye despite their height difference.

"You're Loki! You attacked New York City! It's because of you so many people have died! What the FUCK do you think your doing-"

And though Frigga would have been extremely disappointed in her son, Loki did the only thing he could think of. He head-butted Emma so hard she fell back unconscious. 

"Oh dear..."

To be honest, Loki felt a bit of shame. Sure, he had gotten rough on occasion with the chamber maids in Asgard, but that was entirely consensual. Given that his Seiðr had failed him, physical force was all he could rely on for the moment.

He leaned over Emma making sure she was still breathing and was pleased to see the golden aura still shrouding her body. There was no blood on her head, though a bruise was quickly forming. He picked her up bridal style in a huff, thinking of where to go next.

"Theres a chance the other mortals will recognize me. Perhaps my Seiðr has worn off on them as well..."

Hanging his head in defeat, he let out a loud groan and tried focusing in on the location. He was glad to find his Seiðr would be able to teleport them both there. He grimaced, hesitating for a long moment before stepping through a makeshift portal. A cloud of green and black engulfed them. When they emerged at their destination, Loki's senses were bombarded by the loud clash of yellow and red.

"Reindeer games? Didn't think we'd be seeing you back so fast-"

  
The speaker's words halted once he took in the hurt woman in Loki's arms. In a rush, he slammed his palm down on the nearby counter and was encased in his iron suit. A large cannon pointed directly at Loki.


End file.
